LIBMRY OF CONGRESS, 



; .=^^ii 



# UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.^ 



POEMS 



BY 



EDITH EVELYN JAFFRAY 




NEW YORK: 

ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY. 

1876. 



yc^%\ 






COPYRIGHT, 1876, BY 

Anson D. F. Randolph & Company. 



TO 

MY GENTLEST CRITIC, AND TRUEST FRIEND, 

MY MOTHER, 

Ws Book 

IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 



« ^ 



WE TWO. 

'T^HE earth is fair, Beloved — the sun 
Rises each morn, and down the heavens 
Across his trackless path of blue, 
He rolls until his course is done. 
Down in the West he sinks in pomp 
Of royal purple : all the sky 
Lights with a kindling, crimson flush 
To greet him in his majesty. 



We Two, 

The birds sing in their leafy homes — 
The insects hum their drowsy song — 
All nature blossoms like the rose — 
The golden day is just as long — 
All just the same — the same save one. 
At sunset, when the myriad leaves 
Stir in the whispering evening breeze, 
Is there no thought of thee, Beloved ? 
And is thy home so bright ? Are these 
Nought to the glories thou hast seen ? 
Glories which on thine eyes have burst- 
Wondrous, immortal — bright and fair- — 
Ah, dear one, thou hast seen them first ! 
And I am sitting here alone. 



We Two. 

It may be but a little while 

And I shall see thy face again — 

Hear thy dear voice — bask in thy smile ! 

The earth is fair, but not the same. 

Once we two strolled at eventide, 

Watching the Goddess of the Night 

Sail o'er the hill's dark wooded side. 

Once, we two sat beside the sea, 

Watching the waves break on the shore — 

Watching those waves which thou shalt watch 

Beside me, never any more ! 

And. now — the golden light has died — 

The western glory sinketh low — 

The stars now shine but coldly down — 

7 



We Two. 

The stars that we two looked for so ! 
And I am waiting — till some day 
The angels' wings shall stir the air — 
No matter should he quickly come, 
He could not take me unaware. 
The mighty angel ! At the sound 
Of his dark garments, very sweet 
Shall be my peace, when lulled to rest 
My tired heart shall cease to beat. 
Up to the shining streets of gold. 
Winging my glad and blessed flight. 
Up to the hills where angels dwell. 
Clad in a robe of spotless white. 
My ransomed soul releas'd from pain. 



14^ e Tzvo. 

Shall see thee, standing at the gate. 

And we tzvo enter that glad world, 

For which I now must long and wait. 

Then I shall see what thou hast seen — 

Thy happiness shall be mine own — 

And we two nevermore to part 

Shall worship at our Father's throne ! 
July 1 6, 1876. 



STOLEN STRAWBERRIES 

CTANDING in the golden sunlight, 

Drooping low the curly head, 
Was a child, the blue eyes wistful, 
Gazing on some berries red. 

O, how tempting, O, how luscious, 
Peeping from their leaves of green; 

Surely they are sweet and juicy — 
Ripest berries ever seen. 

lO 



Stolen Strawberries. 

Little hands were stretched to seize them, 

Little mouth was open wide, 
Eager now to taste the sweetness 

Of the ripe fruit by her side. 

Then the dimpled thumb and finger 
Took just one, so ripe and red. 

Glancing fearful o'er her shoulder. 
With the small heart full of dread. 

Was there any person watching? 

No, the garden all was still. 
And the shadows dim were creeping 

Silent up yon purple hill. 



Stolen Strawberries. 

Careful not to soil the white frock 

'Mongst the green leaves she knelt down 

Till the long hair soft and waving 
Fell in ringlets golden brown. 

Very fast she pluck'd the berries — 
Pausing not nor looking round, 

Till, to break the summer stillness, 
Came a voice, with angry sound. 

Startled rose the little maiden ; 

Fingers redden'd by the fruit : 
Azure eyes demurely drooping — 

White frock stain'd, and sweet lips mute. 

12 



Stolen Strawberries. 

Did the child enjoy the berries? 

Stolen fruit to few is sweet — 
Any one who thus seeks pleasure, 

Seldom profits by the treat. 

13 



THE DEPARTURE FOR PANAMA. 

IVT OW who ever thought, pray, of going so far 

As away to the Isthmus of Panama ! 

As you read the title atop of this piece 

You'll say, " Why, the people must all have been 

geese ! " 

But no ; I assure you that geese they were not. 

But an elegant, sensible, well-got-up lot, 

As any you'll find in the State of New York — 

Though the wonderful trip made a good deal of talk. 
14 



The Departure for Panama. 

The host and his wife were a jolly young pair, 
To meet with such very nice people is rare. 
The '' Delta " — a boat of some six hundred tons, 
As full of all comforts as far larger ones, — 
Was chosen this party of swells to convey ; 
And in it they started one bright winter day, 
While a lot of their friends stood on deck or on wharf, 
Who all said, " I so hate to see people off! " 
Now the party was formed of a sweet chosen few, 
To some of its members I'll give you a clew. 
There were two lovely spinsters, three bachelors gay, 
And a dashing young widower, clad all in gray. 
Who leaned o'er the railing which shut in the deck. 

In an attitude fine, tho' it threatened his neck. 

15 



TJie Departure for Panama. 

One charming brunette, in the sweetest of poses, 
Was smothered, almost, in her jacminot roses — 
While the other fair lady, who stood near this belle, 
Held a bouquet of lilies and roses as well. 
Then a young man named '* Johnnie," the queerest 

in town, 
Who loves to appear as an amateur clown, 
Tho' they say that his pedigree's long — I can't 

tell. 

But look in '^ Debrett " and you'll find he's a swell ! 

'Twas a beautiful day — ^just the best for a start. 

And each man uninvited, with envious heart, 

Eyed well the neat vessel, and said, with a sigh, 

'* By jove, but you're lucky ! I wish it were I ! " 
i6 



The Departure for Panama. 

Time fails me to tell of the fun they enjoyed, 
Tho', to some, by the pain of '' good-bye ! " 'twas 

alloyed. 
But all bore up bravely, and then when at last. 
The partings were over, the good-byes were past, 
The ^' Delta " took leave of her friends on the shore, 
And the '' stay-at-homes" turned, to go back as 

before. 
Let us wish to the absent a prosperous trip — 
And a speedy return in their jolly old ship — 
And that when Mr. Francklyn again goes to sea, 

He'll take -pity on us, and ask you and me ! 

February 19 1876. 

17 



GRANDMA. 

'T^HE children were up with Grandma 

Up in the bright sunshine 
That fell thro' the open lattice, 
Between each tangled vine. 

And Grandma sat at her knitting — 

Sat in her old arm-chair, 

With a face content and peaceful 

Under her silver hair. 
i8 



Gi-andma. 

While about her knee there clustered 

The childish faces sweet, 
With the elder girls beside her, 

And the baby at her feet. 

" O, just tell us one more story 

Before we go and play — 
For please to remember, Grandma, 

You've told but one to-day." 

And as thus the children pleaded, 

The eldest girl espied 

The strangest of old portfolios 

Which lay by Grandma's side. 

19 



Grandma. 

" Look, Grandma, at this portfolio ! 

Look, what a funny thing — 
It's so brown, and worn, and faded, 

Tied up with this blue string ! " 

The Grandmother paused a moment. 

At last, in her quiet way. 
She said : " You shall have your story, 

But wait till another day." 

So away the children scampered — 

Vanished each curly head, 
While about old Grandma crowded 



Memories long since dead 



Grandma. 

And she took up the old portfoho 
With its covers brown and worn, 

And looked once more at its contents: 
Letters, yellow and torn. 

Love-letters, old and faded — 

Written in ink now pale — 
Needing no explanation ; 

Telling their own sweet tale. 

And Grandmother's dim eyes moistened- 
And her head bent o'er them low 

As she read each dear old sentence 
Written so long ago ! 



Grandma. 

And she seemed again a maiden — 
Once more so young and fair, 

With no more her many wrinkles, 
And her thin and silvered hair. 

Soon recall'd, she smiled and wonder'd, 

With a little touch of pain, 
That this foolish, pleasant day-dream 

Seemed to make her young again. 

So she knitted on in the old room, 
Where the dear old memories clung, 

Waiting until her Father 

Should once more make her young. 



Grandma. 

And one day in early winter 

When the land was white with snow, 
She was called into His presence, 

Nevermore to older grow ! 

1875. 

23 



TO DAISY. 

C HE stood in the open door-way 

In her baby beauty rare, 
With a ray of sunlight gleaming 

On the rippling golden hair — 
Shyly her blue eyes uplifting — 

While a smile rests on her lips, 

And one small hand hangs beside her 

With its rosy finger-tips. 
24 



To Daisy. 

Do you wonder ' Grandma ' loves her? 

And her aunties all adore ? 
Every one is fond of Daisy — 

Every day they love her more. 
May those little feet be guided 

By a mightier hand than theirs — 
■ There is One above who loves her, 

And Who listens to her prayers. 
Lord, we leave her to Thy mercy — 

Thou art gentle, just, and mild. 
And a good and loving Father, 

Thou wilt look upon Thy child. 

1873. 

25 



A VISION. 

'X^T'HEN twilight deepens to darkness, 

And flickering shadows fall 
Across the firelit ceiling, 

And over the parlor wall, 
The spirit of our loved one 

Glides thro' the open door, 

And I gaze on her face with rapture 

As I did in days of yore. 
26 



A Vision. 

Back from the sea of crystal : 

Back from the streets of gold — 
And I see her eyes upon me, 

And her form my arms enfold ! 
That face is fair — and fairer 

Than on earth it used to be — 
Those eyes more free from sorrow 

Than the eyes we used to see ! 
A tearless bright existence — 

A life of cloudless joy, 
Without a shade of sorrow — 

Without the world's alloy ! 
Can we mourn that she was taken? 

Can we feel a touch of pain, 

»7 



A Visio7i. 

When we know that we shall see her 
In her Father's house again? 

And we say with a thrill of gladness, 
Altho' our hearts are sore : 

" We have not lost our Sister — 

She is only ' gone before.' " 
England, 1874. 

2S 



"SHE IS NOT DEAD, BUT SLEEPETH." 

"And all wept, and bewailed her: but he said, Weep not ; she 
is not dead, but sleepeth." — Luke viii. 52. 

" She is not dead, but sleepeth," 
Tho' friends mourn for her here — 

And now no more she weepeth, 

God wiped away each tear. ^ 

" She is not dead, but sleepeth," 

We see her here no more — 

But what she sowed she reapeth 

On heaven's fair, bright shore. 

29 



" She is not Dtad^ but Sleepeth' 

" She is not dead, but sleepeth " — 
The grave still lies between, 

But in His blood, her Saviour 
Has washed her garments clean. 

Fond hearts, oh, cease your mourning! 

Faint not, but watch and pray — 
Wait for the clear, bright dawning 

Which brings the perfect day. 

'^ She is not dead, but sleepeth " — 

Our sorrow here is brief; 
Christ in His great compassion 



Can calm our wildest grief. 

30 



" She is 710 1 Dead, but SleepetJi! 

''She is not dead, but sleepeth " — 
He who our sorrow gave, 

Has granted to His loved one 
A home beyond the grave. 

Grieve not for her our dear one — 

Muse not in silent pain, 
For He who took her, tells us 

That she shall rise again ! 

January 13, 1875. 

31 



A TEAR. 

IT'S nigh, say thirty year ago — 
That is, come twenty-first of May — 

Since my Samantha married me — 
Tm blest if I forget that day ! 

Now wife and I have always been 
As gay as birds for thirty year, 

But, nothing would have gone aright 

If it hadn't been for just one tear. 

32 



A Tear. 

Tell you the story? Yes, indeed — 

Samantha's blushin' just as red ! 
You'd better go away, my dear — 

It's only what I've often said — 
But then you sometimes contradict 

And I can't make the story clear ; 
So you go in and see to tea 

While Parson Smith and I stop here. 
Well, now, you see, sir, years ago 

When I was young, say twenty-three- 
I found I loved Samantha Brown, 

But couldn't tell if she loved me. 
She was a very handsome girl, 

And all the lads for miles around 

33 



A Tear. 

Said — and I quite agreed with 'em — 

That none like her was to be found. 
She had a haughty kind o' way 

That made you feel a little mean, 
And all the fellows, dead in love, 

Worshipped her as they might a queen. 
I used to go to Farmer Brown's, 

And kind o' hang about the door — 
Thinking perhaps they'd ask me in — 

But such a girl you never saw ! 
She'd look as cold and full o' pride. 

She'd almost cut me in the street — 
" I can't stand this," says I one day, 

" I won't be grovellin' at her feet ! " 

34 



A Tear. 

So I told father " I was off 

For furrin' parts next Wednesday week 
And father seein' something wrong, 

Just held his tongue, and didn't speak. 
I went to Brown's that afternoon, 

And thro' the window I could see 
Samantha sewin' quiet-like. 

Without a thought or word of me. 
The sunlight siftin' thro' the vines 

Fell over her from head to feet — 
She looked so nice, my heart beat fast — 

I tell you, she was mighty sweet ! 
I stole 'round to the old back door. 

And got in somehow — don't know how- 

35 



A Tear. 

For as I came I was that scared — 

Why, sir, I almost feel it now ! 
Samantha, she looked up at me — 

Never so much as turned a hair ; 
'' I'll tell her now I'm goin'," says I — 

"jl reckon that she won't much care ! 
" Miss Brown," says I, as red as fire, 

'' I thought I'd just step up to-day 
To say good-bye — for Wednesday week 

I've got to leave — I'm goin' away." 
" Are you ? " says she, as cold as ice. 

^'She takes it pretty cool," says I — 

'' I wish a'most I hadn't come. 

If this is how she says good-bye ! " 
36 



A Tear. 

" How long will you be gone? " asks she. 

'' O, I don't know at all," says I ; 
'' I haven't thought of that just yet — 

'' A year perhaps," — quite carelessly. 
Well, women is the queerest ones— 

I vow I never saw their match ; 
You see, sir, she had turned her head, 

And how she looked, I couldn't catch. 
But would you b'lieve it? On her hand. 

The sunlight on it, just as clear, 
I saw — guess what ? Well you cant guess- 

'Twas no less than a great big tear ! 
" Samantha, darlin'," quick says I — 

(My, if I didn't kiss her then !) 

37 



A Tear. 

*^ I won't leave j/^/^ for all the world — 

" I'll never go away again ! " 
After a little, she came round, 

And told me just how bad she felt 
At hearin' I was goin' off — 

I tell you what, my heart did melt ! 
Now, since Samantha's changed her name,- 

And that, Sir, 's nigh on thirty year, — 

We often talk of good old times. 

And don't forget to bless that tear ! 
1876. 

38 



TO FLORENCE. 

TIT ER face was dark — such as one sees 

Under Italian skies — 
With sweet curved mouth, and rounded chin, 
And glorious, dark brown eyes, — 

Eyes full of ever-varying thought — 

Deeply, tenderly bright ; 
Flashing out from their silky fringe 

Of lashes dark as night. 

39 



To Florence. 

A voice that one would like to hear, 

Not once, but oft again : 
One that could thrill the listener's ear. 

And charm away all pain. 

Hands, not too white to help the poor, 
And aid all those in need — 

The woman's lovely form contained 
A noble soul indeed. 

That fair soul, shining thro' the eyes. 

Must make them doubly bright, 
That spirit lend the woman's face 

A beam of Heaven's light. 

40 



To Florence. 

One of the truest and the best 

That ever yet has trod — 
A woman with a lovely face ; 

A heart made strong in God ! 

Feb, 25, 1875. 

41 



'^MUMM'S EXTRA DRY." 

CIR Geoffrey Fitz-Herbert was handsome and 

bold; 
Of his deeds when in Palestine, much has been told. 
He was brave, he was generous, both faithful and 

true, 

Which facts were oft stated by those whom he 

knew. 

42 



" Mitinnis ExU'a Dry^ 

One fault he had, surely, which oft made him sigh : 
He was rather too fond of his '' Mumm's Extra 

Dry." 
Tho' he made resolutions again and again, 
He still cared as much for the sparkling cham- 
pagne. 
After fighting with Richard some time in the East, 
He found that his longing for home was increas'd. 
So, tired of war and confusion and strife, 
He went back to England and took him a wife : 
She was fresh as a lily, and equally fair, 
With a cheek like a rose, and sucJi long golden hair ; 
A fair Saxon beauty, whose eyes match'd in hue 
With the summer skies' tint of cerulean blue. 

43 



'' Mumms Extra Dry.'' 

Now Geoffrey was fickle, it grieves me to own — 
Moreover espousing the cause of the throne ; 
He long'd to be fighting the Moslem once more, 
So he left his fair wife, and set out for the war. 
For the sins of Crusaders are always forgiven, 
And he wish'd to make sure of a high place in 

Heaven. 
It so chanced one evening — a beautiful night, 
That Geoffrey Fitz-Herbert, soon after the fight, 
On the sand of the battle-field strewn with the slain. 
Just rested himself ere he went on again. 
The moon threw her light on the bodies around, 
Which lay thickly strewn o'er the blood-redden'd 



ground. 



44 



" Muvim s Extra DryT 

When suddenly — Geoffrey knew not how she 

came — 
'Neath the silvery light stood a beautiful dame. 
Her long yellow locks almost fell to her feet, 
And the look on her face was uncommonly sweef. 
Sir Geoffrey Fitz-Herbert looked up in surprise 
At tne beautiful girl, with the soul-melting eyes ; 
He was puzzled, no doubt ; from the place where he 

lay 

He looked at her silently. Thus did she say : 

" You have fought very bravely this terrible day, 

And bodies of Saracens block up the way — 

Pray ask what you will : be it never so grand, 

I will do what you wish — I am yours to command." 

45 



^^ Mumm s Extra Dry!' 

The fair lady paused, and neither one spoke, 

Till suddenly Geoffrey the long silence broke. 

He said, "I have thought — I've been racking my 
brain, — 

And at last, I conclude I should like some cham- 
pagne." 

He paused for an instant — then looking more shy. 

Said : '' My favorite brand is — is — Mumm's Extra 
Dry 1 " 

(Kind reader, take note as your eyes meet this 
page. 

That this erring knight lived in a barbarous age ; 

He was thirsty and hungry — refreshment he needed ; 

His punishment, too, the offence much exceeded). 

46 



'■^ Minnm s Extra DryT 

The words I record had no sooner been said, 
Than there rolled o'er the battle-field strewn with 

the dead, 
A stream of champagne as yellow as gold. 
Fizzing like Eau de Seltz, and remarkably cold ! 
Sir Geoffrey Fitz-Herbert looked up in dismay 
To see if the lady had gone quite away — 
Alas, she was gone ! and could not be recall'd. 
While Geoffrey Fitz-Herbert gazed round him ap- 

pall'd. 

Now higher and higher the cold yellow flood 

Mounted up round the knight, almost chilling his 

blood — 

47 



^' Mumnis Extra Dry'' 

He drank all he could — but then that could not 

last- 
Sir Geoffrey Fitz-Herbert's a thing of the past ! 
For saying an Ave, he sank 'neath the wave, 
And found for himself a champagne-y grave. 

His wife when she heard it some singular way, 

Wept not for her dear one, but thus did she say : 
« 
" I sure cannot weep — 'twas a good way to die — 

To be drowned in an ocean of Mumm's Extra Dry." 

England, 1874. 

48 ^' ,_ ' ■ 



,y 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper procc 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 

PreservationTechnologi 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVA1 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



